by Paul Cave
“What?” the guard asked.
“Getting DOWN for the night.”
Pet stared back blankly.
“What?” the guard repeated.
The remaining few seconds ticked down in Jacob’s head. “DOWN!” he warned.
Pet finally understood. His face went from bewilderment to enlightenment in more ways than one. In one second, his face looked back blankly, and in the next, it lit up – literally – as the grenade exploded in a boom of thunder and a shattering of glass. Jacob pulled the vampire guard to the ground, a wave of heat at his back. They landed heavily in the mud. The shockwave rolled over them before knocking Pet and the remaining two guards backwards. The nearest vampire to the bike tripped over his feet and staggered into the flames of the bonfire. His screams echoed throughout the camp.
Jacob pulled himself away from the guard, and cried, “The southern clans are attacking!” The guard’s eyes widened with terror. “Go and get help,” Jacob ordered, as he dragged them to their feet. The vampire froze, trapped between indecision and fear. “Go! Go!” Jacob called, and pushed the vampire away from the burning bus. “Get help. I’ll hold them off. Hurry!”
The vampire took off, his cloak flapping wildly as he raced towards the nearest group of remaining soldiers. His remaining friends followed close behind.
“Let’s go,” he told Pet.
The tracker reached out and pulled Pet to his feet. He snatched the helmet up and jammed it onto the vampire’s head, then pulled the chinstrap tight. It both held the helmet in place and clamped Pet’s jaws together. He slipped the goggles over his head before climbing onto the bike. A second later, he felt the suspension give as Pet mounted the back. “Hold on tight,” he warned. Bony arms formed a tight clasp around his waist.
Jacob twisted the key and hit the ignition. Nothing happened. “Shit,” he moaned. Through the goggles he could see the guard heading his way with a platoon of soldiers at his rear.
“Kick-start! Kick-start!” Pet chanted in his ear.
Jacob dropped his foot onto the kick-start, pressed the ignition and then twisted the throttle backwards. The bike almost launched them into the heart of the fire. He turned the handlebars and slid clear with only inches to spare.
Jacob seized his chance. He throttled back on the gas and kicked the bike into first gear. They tore off at breakneck speed and the trees ahead rushed towards them in a blur. From behind, they heard the thud of an explosion, followed by the screams of the injured. Bullets began to tear bark from the trees in front of them. Jacob ducked over the handlebars and hit the woodlands at over 50mph. Another tirade of bullets slammed all around them, and splinters and mud flew everywhere. The bike raced through the woods, following the path the vampire army had scratched out of it earlier.
Moments later, Jacob and Pet had disappeared into the dark, crowded woodlands. And the drone of the bike sounded like a buzz-saw in the canopy of trees, cutting a path to safety.
Chapter Forty-One
Blinding lights burst on the horizon, cutting through the night like a razor-sharp knife. The three occupants of the truck raised their arms in an attempt to protect their eyes. Squirrel jumped on the brakes and the truck skidded across the highway. They stopped with a jolt. The mechanic killed the headlights. All three peered over the hood towards the oncoming display.
“What do you think?” Elliot asked from the rear.
“It’s not one of ours. Too big for sure,” Alice told him.
“Then whose?” Squirrel asked.
The light drew closer, intensifying, and a grumble of engine power added to the spectacle. Now only a hundred yards away, the vehicle began to fill both sides of the highway. It rumbled towards them and the asphalt began to tremble under its might.
“I think we should get out of here,” Squirrel suggested.
“Me too,” Alice concurred.
“I agree,” Elliot hastily added. He stood and jumped from the back.
“What the hell are you doing?” Alice asked.
Elliot took a quick look towards the lights. They were getting much closer. “This is as far as you go. It’s time for you to get out of here. Now go.”
“No – wait,” Alice said, panic rising in her chest. “I’ll come too.”
Elliot and Squirrel made eye contact. The mechanic nodded. He threw the truck into gear and revved the engine. Time to say goodbye.
“What are you doing?” Alice cried.
“We’ve gotta go,” Squirrel said. He nodded for Elliot to hurry.
The young tracker leaned in and kissed Alice. “I love you,” he told her. It had been final. She opened her mouth to complain. Yet time was running out. She reached out and hugged him tightly. “I love you too,” she said in a half sob.
Elliot stepped back and tapped the side of the truck. Squirrel took his cue and jumped on the gas. The truck turned in a tight arc, before disappearing back the way it had come.
Elliot ducked against the wind and then headed quickly for the trees at the roadside. A second later an eighteen-wheeler roared by, flanked on either side by two armed jeeps. Elliot followed their path along the highway. They were going much faster than he’d hoped.
“Go, Squirrel,” he breathed, willing the truck back to the underground and to safety.
Ten, fifteen minutes passed and then a convoy of trucks began to snake slowly by him. Ezekiel’s entire army, Elliot thought, horrified. They rolled by in a fleet of battered vehicles, which ranged from simple cars, most scratched clean of any paint, to massive rigs pulling long trailers, their contents a mystery. A number of bikes or jeeps raced past in a blur, flanking the larger eighteen-wheelers like a squadron of fighters. The procession stretched back for miles, headlights burning back the night, before eventually disappearing over the horizon. There must have been hundreds of them.
All were heading southwards.
Elliot’s blood ran cold. He needed to find Jacob and get back to the underground soon. The tight bend further ahead forced some of the larger rigs to slow in an attempt to negotiate the turn. Some of them were taking the bend wide and drawing close to the trees to gain position. If he timed it right then he might be able to hitch a ride.
He waited patiently until one of the rigs rolled by without an escort. Then, catapulting out of the tree-line, he raced alongside the massive wheels. He threw his arm out and found purchase behind the cabin. Pulling himself up, he took refuge between the cabin and its trailer. Sandwiched between the two, he hunkered down and pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. At least the square cabin protected him from the bite of the wind. Now all he had to do was keep an eye out for Jacob. He turned to one side as a jeep tore past. The driver’s face was long and bleached of colour. A tangle of greasy hair trailed behind him in a wet flap.
Not Jacob.
Keep looking, he told himself.
***
Squirrel felt a sudden thud underneath him. His heart missed a beat. Now was not a good time for the suspension to give. He eased off the gas and the truck slowed. Alice twisted around and watched nervously as the lights grew brighter.
“I think they’ve seen us,” she said.
“No way,” Squirrel disagreed.
So far, they had managed to keep well ahead of the vehicle behind. In another few miles the wall of trees flanking them would break, allowing them to turn off to safety. “We’re almost there,” he told her, confidently, before another thud sounded from directly below his feet.
“What was that?” Alice asked.
“Nothing,” he said, but unable to keep the truck at full speed, he throttled back.
“Why are we slowing?”
Squirrel grumbled, “I think the suspension is about to give.”
“Oh – no,” Alice moaned.
Another thump sounded and this one felt like a sledgehammer had slammed directly underneath them.
“Shit,” Squirrel cursed. He turned his attention to the trees on either side. They were a solid wall of tim
ber and mostly impenetrable. Only on foot would they be able to find protection within the dark woodlands.
“We need to ditch the truck. And hide in the woods,” he said.
“There’s no time,” Alice replied. “Look.”
The headlights had grown into large orbs, burning away the darkness behind them. The sound of an engine filled the tight tunnel of timber with its ferocious growl. Then, and to Alice’s horror, two smaller lights cut away from the main beam and began to descend upon them.
“They’ve seen us,” she cried.
Squirrel chanced a look behind. Two jeeps had broke formation and were now in hot pursuit. With no other choice he floored the gas pedal. The truck launched forwards. The power of the modified engine finally unleashed. The distance doubled instantly.
“Go! Go!” Alice chanted.
Squirrel’s knuckles turned white as they clamped tightly around the steering wheel. Up ahead, the trees started to thin slightly. Another two miles and they would be able to disappear down one of the dirt tracks. The speedometer hovered around 80mph. He pushed the gas down to the floor and managed to gain another 5mph. They would make it.
A bomb went off directly under them. It exploded in a clunk and clatter of mechanical parts. The truck slowed instantly, as if Squirrel had swapped the gas for the brake. The speedometer fell to 60mph. The gears were shot to hell.
“The transaxle’s about to blow,” Squirrel said, fighting to keep the truck on a straight path. The steering wheel threatened to pull them headlong into the wall of trees. Somehow, though, he managed to keep the wayward vehicle pointed forwards. He gritted his teeth and held the wheel steady.
Alice turned back and her eyes widened with terror as a flash of gunfire erupted behind them. A volley of gunfire cut through the darkness and the air sizzled at her ears. It had been too wide, but barely. The next attack came closer. Another barrage of bullets chattered from behind, and Alice had to pull herself and Squirrel down into their seats. The bullets tore holes through the Perspex windshield, and both felt the bite of wind instantly.
“Sons-of-bitches,” Squirrel cursed.
The speedometer dropped below 50mph. They were slowing fast and the jeeps were gaining with every second. An occasional gap presented itself within the trees, but the truck was still too wide to negotiate around the inner circle of woodland. Another burst of gunfire sounded. Molten metal flew around them like angry little hornets. Some of the shrapnel found its way onto the back of Squirrel’s hands. There, they sizzled away the flesh, leaving red welts.
The truck rocked with another thump, but this one had come from behind. Next, Alice found herself face-to-face with a vampire. The thing grinned malevolently and four sharp canines revealed themselves. Alice felt under her seat. Her fingers wrapped themselves around a pistol. She grinned back and then pointed the weapon at the vampire’s head. Its look of contempt disappeared instantly. It jumped on the brakes and the jeep fell back. Alice squeezed a shot off anyway, but it disappeared harmlessly into darkness.
The jeep responded with an attack of its own. The vampire in the back, legs planted on either side of a machinegun, took aim and fired. Tracers filled the dark gap between them. The bullets ripped into the truck, punching holes in the body and ripping the rear fender away. It clattered to the road in a shower of sparks. The jeep caught it under its wheels, and mercifully the next attack went wide.
Their relief was short-lived, however. The second jeep sped round the first to pull up alongside Squirrel. Mechanic and vampire looked at each other. The jeep was fast, but had sacrificed mass for speed. Most of the body was a framework of hollow poles, fixed together on a chassis and four wheels. The vampire and the machinegun in the back bounced up and down violently as the lightweight vehicle careered along the highway.
Over the roar of the wind, Squirrel heard the machinegun lock and load. He took a quick breath, possibly his last, and then twisted the steering wheel sideways. He hit the jeep with the full weight of the truck. With a whoosh of air it flipped over and spun crazily towards the wall of trees. It exploded in a flash of fire, showering the woodland with red-hot shrapnel.
The truck bounded on, the break in the trees ever closer. Squirrel had started to believe they would make it, when from behind, he heard a deafening shriek. The eighteen-wheeler was right behind them. The cabin loomed high in the air. Another shriek sounded as the driver pulled on the horn.
“Hurry, Squirrel. Hurry!” Alice called.
He jammed his foot down, but was instantly rewarded with another heavy thump from underneath. He shook his head and cursed his luck. They were coasting and the rig behind had all the advantage of weight and speed. The only compensation they had was that the truck was smaller, and if they could reach one of the dirt paths then the rig would be too large to continue its pursuit.
***
Bara’s face twisted itself with ravenous glee. “Faster,” she commanded.
The driver stepped harder on the gas and the huge rig lurched forwards. They cut the distance to the truck in seconds. The driver pulled on the horn and the blast forced the second jeep out of the way. It drew alongside and retook its flanking position. Now with an open road, the rig reeled the truck in, drawing up hood to grill.
Bara grinned, her fangs blood-red in the interior of the cabin. She heard the horn cry again and she whooped with excitement.
“Squash them like bugs,” she told the driver.
***
The rig hit the truck and Squirrel and Alice were almost thrown out of their seats. The truck left the highway; its back wheels spinning freely for a second before crashing back down with a bone-breaking jolt. The extra purchase of traction catapulted the truck away from the rig. This increase in speed gave Squirrel an idea.
“What are you doing?” Alice asked, seeing him slip out of gear.
“We’re just grinding metal against metal,” he told her. “The gears are almost totally shot.” He slipped into neutral and allowed the truck to coast along. Within seconds the rig smashed at their rear. The power of the eighteen-wheeler pushed the truck further along. They were drawing closer and closer to the break in the trees. Squirrel could see them up ahead. If the suspension held, they’d be able to use what was left of the gears to break for freedom. The rig slammed into them again and they felt themselves launched forwards with momentum. A hundred more yards and they would make it.
Sixty more yards.
He waited and the rig smashed against them. The truck took to the air for a second time. The moment it landed a tyre exploded. Sparks flew out behind them as the metal rim of the wheel scraped along the highway. Terrified, Squirrel looked at the speedometer. The thing seemed to be winding backwards like a faulty clock. They dropped below 30mph.
Forty more yards,28mph.
Thirty yards.
25mph.
The mechanic gritted his teeth and waited. The eighteen-wheeler hit them again and the speedometer shot up to 50mph in a second. Twenty yards, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen… NOW! He rammed the gearshift home and dropped his foot to the floor. The truck hurtled forwards. Fifteen, thirteen, eleven.
Suddenly, to his horror, the escape route disappeared.
He heard the chatter of rotor-blades and knew instantly that if Ezekiel had somehow managed to master such a weapon then Man’s last hope had gone. He watched as the machinegun at the front of the incredible machine started to spin. They’d be torn to shreds in seconds. Fuck it, he thought. His foot pushed all the way to the floor and the truck careered forwards, ready to hit the helicopter head-on.
***
“Pull up! Pull up!” Nick cried.
Tate hit the rudder with all she had. Black Bird shot upwards and the truck passed underneath a split second later. She heard a hollow scrape as the vehicle rubbed against the Huey’s underbelly. She throttled back and both the helicopter and the truck hurtled backwards along the highway, pulling away from the rig together.
“It’s clear!” Nick shouted throug
h the communications system. The truck cleared the tail-rotor before skidding to a halt. Tate punched the flight-stick forwards and Black Bird levelled out again. It hung in the air for a second, face-to-face with the rig. Like two colossal, mythological beasts they faced each other.
Tate flipped a switch and the cabin of the eighteen-wheeler magnified itself through the electronic system of her helmet. Two demented faces stared back at her. The passenger, a female, appeared to speak to the driver. He, in turn, stared back in disbelief. Tate watched his head shake vigorously – No. A pistol appeared and it seemed to be all the convincing the driver needed. He turned towards the Huey and gulped. The pistol was pressed against his head.
“Don’t do it,” Tate whispered.
Nick leaned forwards. “Come on, you son-of-a-bitch, give us your best shot.”
The rig lurched forwards as the driver floored the gas. Thick smoke bellowed from the exhaust and the horn shrieked like the roar of a beast. Tate watched as it began to fill the whole highway, its square cabin a solid metal wall. Yards were halved in seconds as the eighteen-wheeler bore down on them.
“Come to Papa,” Nick said. He fixed his eyes on Tate’s gloved finger and willed her to squeeze the trigger.
Tate waited a second longer before hitting the fire button. The machinegun spun to life. It spat out a shower of deadly projectiles. Ripping away metal, glass, plastic and soft flesh. Through her visor she saw the look of hostility torn away from the woman’s face. A massive open wound stared back at her, and Tate shuddered with the horror of it. Bullets shredded the driver’s torso, cutting the vampire’s right arm away. He tensed and his remaining hand jerked the steering wheel to the left. The rig swerved to one side and the trailer began to fishtail across the black tarmac. It came at them like a solid, unstoppable metal wave.